


And One on the Way

by SamSnak



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Male Pregnancy, Mating, Mating Bites, Mating Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:55:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27705883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamSnak/pseuds/SamSnak
Summary: Bruce and Dick find themselves in a delicate situation after an ill-advised night of passion. How will their little family cope? Mild angst with a tooth-rottingly fluffy ending.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 24
Kudos: 243
Collections: Dick Grayson Fic Exchange 2020





	And One on the Way

**Author's Note:**

  * For [J_D_McCormick](https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_D_McCormick/gifts).



“It’s positive,” Nightwing says as he drops the printout onto the desk in front of Batman, “Just like the last time.”

“I know,” Batman says, his face buried in his gauntleted hands. Dick isn’t even sure why it’s such a surprise. They’d fucked unprotected during Dick’s heat, Bruce knotted him, and Bruce _bit him_. There really isn’t a more potent fertility combination than that. 

“I’m not taking anymore tests,” Nightwing folds his arms, “It’s just going to be positive again. No amount of testing and retesting is going to change that. And if you take out much more of my blood I won’t be able to patrol tonight,”

“I _know,_ ” Batman repeats. And isn’t that just like him. Make Dick feel guilty by quietly agreeing with him.

Dick sighs, because for all of his flaws and all of the strains on their relationship, he _loves_ Bruce. Bruce has always been the center of his universe and the love of his life, and he can’t stand seeing him upset.

“Hey, C’mere,” Dick says after a moment, putting a hand on his shoulder and moving to climb into his lap. Bruce doesn’t move, but he doesn’t push him away either, and he definitely relaxes once Dick is in his lap and has his arms wrapped around his giant shoulders.

“It’s gonna be okay, Bruce,” Dick says into the side of his neck. He tries to pull him closer as he settles down into his lap. He wants to hug him, but he also doesn’t want to lose an eye to the sharp ears of the cowl, so he slides his hands around, searching for the release to remove it. To his great surprise, Bruce lets him, and to his even greater surprise, Bruce rests his head against Dick’s chest, letting him stroke his hands through his hair.

“Everything will be fine,” he promises again, kissing his hair, “We’ll figure it out, like we always do. We’ve faced bigger obstacles than this,” Bruce says nothing, and still doesn’t say anything when Dick slides both hands to his shoulders. They’re so tense that they make Dick’s muscles ache in sympathy. He tries to massage them, but even his fingers aren’t strong enough to dig in through the armor of the Batsuit. Bruce must appreciate the effort, because after a few moments he wraps both arms around his waist and squeezes.

“Why don’t we go upstairs,” Dick purrs, one hand already sliding to the release of Bruce’s suit, “And you let me give you a nice massage. You’ll feel so much better.”

That finally makes Bruce stir, and he leans back, craning his head up to look up at Dick, frowning, “How can you even think about that right now?”

“About what,” he laughs, “I’m just offering you a way to work all of that tension out,” Dick’s fingers slip underneath the edge of the suit and he starts rubbing at Bruce’s skin underneath, “You’re the one reading too much into that,”

“Dick,” he warns. It’s the kind of tone that might sound annoyed to anyone else, but Dick knows how to press Bruce’s buttons better than anyone, and he knows full well that he’s about to get exactly what he wants. 

“Bruce,” he answers back, tone blase as he opens the suit up enough to fit his whole hand in, the texture of the gauntlet clinging to Bruce’s flushed skin. He leans down, closing the gap between the two of them and pressing their lips together softly, once. It’s more of a tease than anything, and he’s almost ready to pull away when Bruce takes the bait and cups the back of his head, pulling him in closer. Dick deepens the kiss, slipping his tongue between his parted lips. 

Bruce starts sliding his hands down his back and Dick hums, “Mm. That’s what got us into this mess to begin with.”

“You’re very...tempting,” Bruce says as he nips at his throat.

Dick laughs, “Can we at least move this upstairs? Or somewhere less—public?” Preferably somewhere that an unsuspecting, innocent Robin couldn’t walk into at any moment to be permanently scarred.

Bruce’s lips return to his, kissing him for a moment before pulling away, “The Batmobile’s backseat is fairly spacious.”

———————————————————

“It’s a conversation we have to have at some point,” Dick says as he flops onto the couch in Bruce’s study, “I bet they’ll be fine with it,”

Bruce’s jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. He’s clearly preparing himself for a much more uncomfortable conversation than Dick is, but all he says is, “We’ll see.”

“It’s good that we’re telling them now,” he chuckles, “I don’t think they’ll buy that I just got really, really fat. Plus, this way we can all process it together. Like ripping off the Bandaid, yeah?” Dick rubs the bandage on his arm, “I’m just glad that you’re finally on board. If you tried to make me do any more blood tests I was going to leave you.”

“Blood is more sensitive and accurate than urine,” Bruce says simply, turning his gaze down to straighten the files on his desk.

Dick knows better than to argue, “Sure,” he agrees, “I’ll go get them. Tell them we need to have _a Family Meeting._ ”

“No,” Bruce says, dropping the papers he’d been reading over, “Don’t get up.”

Dick just raises an eyebrow, leaning back on the sofa and putting his feet up on the coffee table. It’s a testament to how shaken Bruce is by the whole pregnancy thing that he doesn’t even scold him for it. 

“I’ll go get them,” Bruce walks around his desk towards the door of the study. Dick does as he’s told for once, sitting obediently and waiting for Bruce to get back. He tries not to let himself imagine how Jason is going to respond. And worst of all: What will Alfred think? His heart starts to hammer in his chest, and he suddenly worries what the stress will do to the pup. But that thought makes him even more anxious, and suddenly he’s caught in a cycle.

Fortunately, he doesn’t have much time to work himself up, “Is Dick alright?” Jason asks from the hallway a few minutes later.

“Nothing is wrong,” Bruce promises, “Just something important that we need to tell you both.” 

Dick sits up straight as soon as he hears their voices and tries to arrange his face into a relaxed expression. He tries to not-so-subtly cover his fresh mating bite with a hand, because a scarf in the middle of a Gotham summer would have been too obvious.

“Hey,” he tries to smile warmly at the three of them as they file in.

“Is everything alright, Master Dick?” Alfred frowns.

“Everything’s fine,” Bruce cuts in, moving to Dick’s side and placing a hand on his shoulder when he tries to stand up. Bruce sits down beside him, far closer than normal, thighs touching, and if he weren’t sitting there pregnant with Bruce’s pup he might be blushing about that.

“Please, sit,” Dick says to Jason and Alfred. Jason’s frown deepens as he looks at the close contact between Dick and Bruce, and he shares a look with Alfred before the two of them sit on the opposite sofa. 

“Master Bruce, please. What is all of this about?” So many years of friendship and trust with Alfred. Dick feels such an affection for the man, and he’s beyond terrified at what he might think about all of this. 

“Dick is pregnant,” Bruce says, clear and confident. Dick knows it’s the best way, ripping off the Bandaid and all that, but he still can’t stop himself from cringing at how direct it sounds. His fingers curl protectively over the mating bite and he slouches down in his seat a bit. 

“Dick, what—” Jason starts. Beside him, Alfred’s worried look deepens.

“It’s mine,” Bruce interrupts.

Simultaneously, Alfred clutches a hand over his mouth and Jason shouts, “ _What the hell, Bruce!”_

The four of them sit in horrible, awkward silence for a few moments. Jason with a horrified look on his face, and Alfred looking like he’d just learned about a death in the family. Dick can’t physically slouch any further without risking sliding right off the couch and into the floor. He desperately wishes that the couch would just envelope him. The sheer embarrassment and horror of the situation makes him feel like he’s about to collapse into himself and disappear out of existence entirely. 

“There was probably a better way to go about doing this,” Dick mutters when he can’t stand the silence any longer. 

“Now they know,” Bruce insists. It’s clear from his posture that he wants to flee. Everything about him screams uncomfortable, from the white knuckled grip he’s got on his own knees to the stiff set of his jaw. If Bruce had his way, he’d hide in the Batcave until the baby was born. And then probably until it left for college. That he’s still here by his side is a testament to how strong their new mating hormones are. Bruce couldn’t leave him alone if he tried. 

“I just—I don’t understand how this happened,” Jason finally says.

“When two people love each other very much—”

“Shut, _up,_ Dick! This isn’t the time for jokes.”

“I’m the one who’s pregnant, Jason. I’m allowed to joke.”

“Not about this! Not when the father is _Bruce!”_ Jason yells, both hands in the air. 

“Well, what am I supposed to do, Jason? I just found out about it this morning. I’m trying to process it, too.”

Jason buries his face in his hands, “I can’t believe you two are—oh my god.” 

“I was kind of hoping you both would be happy for us,” Dick says, “Or at least not this...upset.”

“Of course I’m upset. How could I not be?”

An uncomfortable silence settles over the group. It’s going so much worse than Dick feared, and poor Alfred still hasn’t said a thing. He looks like he’s too stunned to speak. For once, Bruce is the one to speak first, “Alfred, are you alright? With this.” The question breaks Dick’s heart as much as the answer worries him. Bruce needs Alfred’s approval just as much as he does.

“Yes, I’m quite alright, Master Bruce,” Alfred says. His expression is unreadable again, the initial shock having long faded and given way to his usual, unflappable self, “Is that all that you wished to tell us? I do need to finish preparing dinner.”

Dick feels his stomach drop and his heart shatter all at the same time. He chances a glance towards Bruce, who he’s sure is feeling the same thing, but his face gives nothing away. 

Bruce says nothing for a long moment, then finally, “That was all. Thank you, Alfred.”

With that, the older man stands and makes a very dignified exit. Dick wants to cry. 

Poor Jason is left staring at the two of them. Bruce has stopped pretending to attend to the conversation, and has started staring across the room. He does grasp Dick’s hand in his, and starts to stroke reassuringly along the side. 

Jason is still watching them warily when Dick forces his eyes up, “I’m sorry,” Dick says. He’s not even sure what he’s apologizing for at this point, and he doesn’t actually mean it, anyway. 

“Did you two—” Jason starts, “Are you guys mated now?” 

“Yes,” Bruce says. Dick gingerly moves his hand away from the tender bite on his neck. 

“Oh,” Jason says, “Congratulations, I guess," Jason looks down at his fingernails, nodding. 

Dick laughs at the automation with which he says it, “Thanks. I’m— _we’re_ happy about it,” at that, Bruce slides a hand up to his shoulder and squeezes. 

Jason nods, “That’s...good. I’m glad for you both,” he sounds like he’s trying to convince himself more than anything. Today didn’t bring him the joyous, celebratory response from his family that Dick was hoping for, but it’s a start.

Bruce squeezes Dick once more before standing, “I should go prepare for patrol. A few leads I still need to follow up on.”

Dick stands with him, “Me, too. I still need to look into that warehouse from last night.”

“You’re not patrolling,” Bruce says simply. Jason freezes in place on the couch, looking between the two of them with saucer-sized eyes and waiting for the fight that would inevitably come.

Dick laughs, "C'mon. I'm like 2 weeks pregnant. There's no reason I can't patrol,"

"That’s exactly why you can't patrol."

"Bruce, I'm not going to sit around and do nothing for 10 months. I'll lose my mind,"

“I’m not letting my pregnant mate run around risking his life. That’s the end of it.”

“Oh, _oh_ that is most certainly _not_ the end of it, _Bruce,_ if you think I’m going to let you control my life just because you knocked me up—”

“I’m going to go see if Alfred needs any help,” Jason says before slipping out the door. 

Dick just sighs as soon as Jason leaves, “Look, Bruce, I don’t want to sit around and get fat for ten months,” he grins, sliding closer, “I don’t want you to lose all interest in me and try to find a new mate.”

“You’ll always be perfect,” Bruce says instantly. Dick is reasonably sure that it’s all the new mating hormones, but it’s hard to argue with Bruce now. Especially not when he’s being uncharacteristically sweet. 

It’s a fight to have another day, at the very least, “Alright, Bruce. I’ll stay in tonight. Help you guys out from here.”

Dinner is about as awkward as Dick expected, although not as awkward as it could be. Bruce and Jason leave together, and Dick is left by himself in front of the Batcomputer. At midnight, Batman is adamant that there’s nothing else for Dick to do. Dick knows It’s a lie, but resisting Bruce is hard enough, and resisting Alfred when he joins Bruce’s encouragements for him to go to sleep is _impossible._ It’s 3 AM by the time Dick finally gives up on falling asleep. He feels like he’s losing his mind sitting at home all the time, and he wonders if he’s always had insomnia that’s just been masked by the exhaustion of rigorous physical activity. Sleep has never eluded him for this long before Bruce put him on a premature maternity leave. 

Bruce and Jason are still out patrolling, but it’s the time of night that means that Alfred has normally turned in by now, unless Batman needed him for something else. Dick ventures out of his and Bruce’s bedroom and makes his way downstairs. He doesn’t have any real target, but stretching his legs is nice enough. He wanders aimlessly into the kitchen.

Alfred is sitting in the breakfast nook with a cup of tea when he turns on the light. 

“Hello, Master Dick,”

“Hey, Alfred,” it’s the first time since that conversation that the two of them have been alone together. Alfred used to be such a calming presence. The one person in Dick’s life who he knew he could just go spend time with and avoid any lectures or stern looks. He’s always been so comfortable around him, and it breaks Dick’s heart that things are so different, now. 

“Couldn’t sleep either?” Dick asks him, getting himself a glass of water so he has something to look at other than Alfred’s face.

Alfred nods, “A little restless of late, yes,” Dick knows that it wasn’t directed at him, and that it wasn’t intended to make _him_ feel bad, but he still feels a pang of guilt, all the same. 

Dick sighs, “Yeah, I can—understand that,” he shifts his weight on his feet nervously, considering whether or not he can manage slipping back upstairs or if he’s going to have to have an awkward conversation now.

Alfred is silent for a long moment. Dick stands there sipping his water and looks everywhere else but at him, wanting to break the silence and desperately wishing for things to go back to normal, but too afraid to say the first word himself. Finally, Alfred sighs and says, “I suppose we should both try to get some rest,”

Dick feels a weight settle in his stomach at that. At the resignation in his voice. Like Alfred is giving up. It feels like the door shutting on a relationship, like something final and irreversible is transpiring between them. Suddenly the prospect of having that conversation doesn’t sound so terrible, afterall. 

Alfred starts to stand slowly. Dick thrusts his hand through the door before it closes, “Are you—Do you...hate us, now?” he knows immediately that _hate_ isn’t the right word for it.

Alfred looks surprised for an instant, but quickly rights himself, slowly sitting back down, “Of course not.”

Dick pulls out a seat next to him and sits, “I’m sorry about all of this,”

Alfred sighs, “You have nothing to apologize for, Master Dick. I believe I should be the one apologizing.”

“No, Alfred, it’s fine. Bruce really dropped a bomb on the two of you.”

“It was quite the,” he pauses, “Surprise,” Alfred inhales deeply, “Are you...well, Master Dick,”

Dick blushes, “Yeah! Yes. Of course. I’m great. I just don’t want you and Jason to be upset about all of this. Bruce and I'm the one who—uh, started it, I suppose.”

Alfred nods, “I suspected as much,” Alfred pats his hand, which is as close as the man ever gets to initiating a hug. The sentiment warms Dick’s chest, “It will be nice to have a pup around. I haven’t held one since Master Bruce was a pup himself.”

Dick smiles at the thought, “Was Bruce good? As a kid, I mean. I guess I just want to know what I’m in for.”

Alfred smiles knowingly, “Master Bruce’s temperament has been remarkably stable over the course of his lifetime.”

“Oh. Joy.” 

———————————————————————

For the next week, Jason avoids the both of them as much as humanly possible, only saying the bare minimum, “Subject is at the docks,” or, “Pass the salt.” Bruce, the Grand Master of avoidance, is perfectly happy to continue the way things are, or is at least incapable of changing anything. So Dick has to take it upon himself to patch things up with an impromptu movie night, and Jason wasn’t able to avoid getting dragged into it.

Not that Jason didn’t try, of course, but it’s the middle of summer, and it’s been awhile since Dick was in highschool, but he distinctly remembers a lack of homework during those months. So there the two of them sit, perched on the couch in front of the television, gazes affixed to the screen but neither one of them really watching, both awkwardly avoiding talking for as long as possible. 

Jason, much to Dick’s surprise, is the one that finally breaks the silence, “Look, Dick, I’m sorry that I’ve been so weird lately.”

“No, no. It’s alright,” Dick assures him quickly, “This is a—” don’t call it _weird,_ “Surprising situation. It’s alright to feel shaken by it.”

Jason nods slowly, bowing his head down and starting to pick at a piece of thread on the couch, “Yeah, it’s definitely a surprise.”

Jason wrinkles his nose. He still looks green about the whole thing, “Are you...happy?”

Dick doesn’t hesitate, “Yes. Very.”

Jason looks at him for a long moment, searching his face for any signs of uncertainty. Dick’s confidence must show, because he apparently doesn’t find any, “Alright.” Jason says finally.

“Alright?” Dick questions.

“It’s alright. I mean, it’s weird, don’t get me wrong. But it’s alright. Things will be...not normal,” he shakes his head, “They’ll be weird, but alright. As long as you’re happy.”

“I am,” Dick nods, “I love Bruce, and I love this pup, and I’m...happy. Terrified, but happy.” 

“Good,” Jason gives him a cautious smile. 

“This will be fun, you’ll see,” Dick grins, “Me, Bruce, the baby, Alfred, and you. We’re going to be a happy little family.”

Jason grimaces, “Let’s not go that far.”

They watch the rest of the movie in a comfortable silence--until Bruce comes to collect Jason for patrol. Dick doesn’t even bother arguing his case to join anymore, because he knows that it’s futile. Instead, he catches Bruce alone after Jason runs down to the Cave. 

Dick kisses Bruce until the two of them are breathless, and Bruce leaves him with a filthy promise of _later._

———————————————————————

“Aren’t the paint fumes bad for you? In your delicate state, I mean.”

Dick elbows him before sitting on the floor of the nursery to open a can of paint. He’s cranky enough as it is. He has to pee constantly and his back hurts from his swollen stomach, “I could still kick your ass,” 

Jason rolls his eyes, “If you can manage to stand up. How many times have you gotten stuck, again?”

“I was never _stuck_ ,” Dick says as he forces a screwdriver underneath the edge of the lid, “It’s just...hard for me to stand up, sometimes. I’m front-heavy now.”

“You’re enormous,” the corner of Jason’s mouth curls up into a grin, and he easily dodges the screwdriver that flies towards him.

“I’m _glowing,_ I’m not enormous,”

“Bruce has to tell you that. He’s the father,” Jason takes the can of paint from him and dips a brush inside, “I don’t like the pastel yellow, by the way. Should've gone with red.”

“Red isn’t a baby color, Jason. Pastels are,” Dick shakes his head. 

“But red is Robin’s color,” Jason says as he starts to climb up the ladder.

“We can paint your room red, then.”

Jason and Dick both startle as they look towards the doorway. Bruce is standing there, still dressed in his suit from a day at the office, looking especially handsome and well put-together. 

Jason grins, “I’m holding you to that.”

“I think your current decorating scheme is fine, personally. Just add some Robin memorabilia,” Bruce frowns a bit, obviously envisioning the beautiful, aged walls of the Manor covered in a gaudy red paint. Dick was shocked that Bruce had agreed to let him paint the nursery and is convinced that the pregnancy hormones are affecting Bruce as much as they are him. 

“I knew you were bluffing,” Jason grins. 

Bruce chuckles before turning to Dick, “How are you feeling?”

“Good. Great, actually. And even better now,” Dick smiles at him.

“He’s stuck on the floor,” Jason says without turning away from his painting.

“I’m not. I just haven’t seen the need to stand up yet. But I can whenever I want,” it’s a clear lie, but Bruce is kind enough not to call him on it. 

“You shouldn’t be in these paint fumes,” Bruce says as he helps him up and then pulls him into a hug.

“That’s what I said,” Jason tosses over his shoulder.

“Jason’s right. You should be resting,” Bruce starts to gently usher him towards the door. 

“All I do now is rest,” he complains, “It’s been 10 weeks since I’ve done a handstand. And 12 weeks since I’ve been able to do an aerial. I’m sick of resting.”

“It’s not forever,” Bruce comforts him, “Jason, don’t worry about that. Go down to the Cave. I’ll be there soon and we can train,”

“Yes!” Jason practically flips off of the ladder and rushes past them.

“Just salt in the wound,” Dick pouts.

“Come on,” Bruce says, a hand sliding to the small of Dick’s back.

“We do need to get this nursery painted. And I kind of wanted to do it myself. Just seems like a ‘New Parent’ thing to do,”

“It’ll get done,” Bruce presses a kiss to Dick’s temple as he continues to shepherd him forward. 

“Where are you leading me?”

“I wanted to give you something,” Bruce leads them around the corner and towards their bedroom.

Dick snickers, “ _Give me something,_ eh? In the middle of the day? Be still my heart,”

Bruce smacks his ass, “Not quite that.”

“Too bad,” Dick says, “I’ll just have to wait until later, I suppose,” 

Bruce kisses him, “Later, yes,” he leads him to sit on the side of their bed, helping him climb up like he always does. Dick insists he can do it on his own, but it has become significantly harder over the past few weeks. Bruce gets him settled, running a hand down across his stomach, then down his thigh, and reaches into the nightstand on his side of the bed. 

He presents Dick with a small, velvet box, and Dick’s heart starts to hammer in his chest as his mind starts to race. Bruce is proposing to him. The two of them are going to get married. Declare their love for all of Gotham to see. Oh god. 

“Bruce, is that—” he tries to stop himself as Bruce opens the box. 

His heart still races, although not as quickly as before. Inside is a sparkling watch that gleams underneath the sunlight streaming into the room. It’s clearly old but still in perfect condition. It’s beautiful, “This was my father’s,” he says, taking Dick’s wrist and wrapping the bands of the watch around, “I had it fitted to your wrist.”

It’s lovely, and it’s such an incredibly generous and sentimental gift that Dick’s feel guilty for the small pang of disappointment over what it’s _not,_ “It’s gorgeous, Bruce. Thank you so much. I love it,”

“You’re welcome,” Bruce says, looking down and clearing his throat, “I don’t think I’ve told you how much I—” he shifts on his feet a bit, placing his hands on either of Dick’s knees and stroking a pattern with his thumbs, “I’m honored that you’re my mate. That you’re having my pup. You make me so happy.”

The raw sincerity of it makes tears begin to prickle in the backs of Dick’s eyes, “Oh, Bruce. I love you. So much,”

“I love you, too,” Bruce kneels down in front of him and takes his face between both of his hands, kissing him and resting their foreheads together. 

Dick wraps his arms around Bruce and hugs him back, “I’m so excited. I can’t wait to see this pup’s little face.”

“Me, either,” Bruce smiles, “They’ll be perfect. I hope they look just like you,”

Dick chuckles, “Are you kidding? With as strong as Wayne genetics are? I bet this kid is just a carbon-copy of you.”

“Hm. We should hope not.”

Dick laughs and squeezes him again, “I love you, but one Bruce is enough. We’ll just have to hope that some Grayson genetics were able to sneak in there.”

———————————————————————

A few weeks later, Bruce is walking around to Dick’s side of the car to help him get out. They’ve just gotten back from one of Dick’s routine follow-up visits. Dick can’t stop smiling. Everything is fine, both he and the baby are healthy and doing well. 

Dick wanted to wait to know the baby’s sex. Wanted it to be a surprise, but Bruce just didn’t have it in him. He’ll always have the need to collect as much information as possible, to plan for every possibility out to the most minute of details, and if it makes Bruce feel better, well, it’s a small sacrifice to make in Dick’s mind. 

“Thanks, but I can get out on my own,” he says, taking Bruce’s hand and letting himself be pulled to his feet, anyway, “I’m not that big, yet.”

“Indulge me,” Bruce wraps an arm around him and pulls him close against his side.

“Anything for you, B,” Dick hugs him back, and asks as they start to make a leisurely stroll up the pathway back to the Manor, “Have you thought of any names yet? I kind of like Thomas. Or Johnathan.”

Bruce kisses his temple, lingering for a second and enjoying the contact, “What about Damian?”

“Damian?” Dick asks. He’s not cruel enough to point out how odd the name is, but he still can’t hold back the question.

“It’s derived from the Greek _damazo_ , which means ‘to conquer or overcome.’” 

“Hm,” Dick just hums, laying his head against Bruce’s shoulder, “I suppose it’s appropriate.”

“I think so, too.”

Alfred appears at the end of the driveway, Jason, in tow, seemingly out of nowhere, “Do be careful, Master Dick,”

“I’m not made of glass,” Dick laughs. 

“Boy or girl?” Jason asks. 

“Boy,” Bruce says proudly. 

“Alright!” Jason jumps, fist pumped into the air. 

Next to him, Alfred smiles, and tears begin to form in his eyes, “Congratulations Master Bruce. And congratulations to you, Master Dick,”

“Thank you! Bruce and I were just talking about names.”

Dick doesn’t mind a name, not really. This is still the happiest he ever remembers being, and he can’t remember a time in his life where Bruce looked so genuinely _happy._ And a few months later, when Damian finally arrives, the two of them are so smitten over each other and his tiny little face that nothing else matters.


End file.
